I'll Come Back For You
by firerwolf
Summary: This story is based in Act 4 of Quantum Break and there are major spoilers for the game. reviews would be appreciated. Beth/Jack


The rattle of the metal ball as she shook the spray can bounced off the walls like the thoughts bouncing around in her head. It was just a jumble of noise drowning out the origin. Her hand stopped and the rattling fell silent, but her thoughts remained tangled. She took a step back to get a wider view of the mural she'd finished. Well, she'd technically finished it a long while ago, but she'd make adjustments and touch ups at times like this. Times when she wanted to think about something simple. She told herself it gave her peace of mind; just studying the image and looking for errors to correct...It was a lie. But it was a lie that she needed to keep things together.

She searched for a line that was out of place, a color that needed to be refreshed, anything that looked different than how she'd first seen it. But there was nothing. Besides some slight fading that hadn't set in yet, it looked exactly like she'd first seen it in 2016 - which had lead her to everything she'd done in the last eleven years. She should be expecting it to look right, as the date is July 4th, 2010. She'd even come touch up the painting specifically get her mind off the events she knew were going to take place that day, though somehow she was still caught off guard by the realization that she would never again spend another night in this room.

The torrent of thoughts came crashing back down on her, the reality of what this day meant setting in like a heavy weight. Today was the day she'd been waiting eleven years for, the day that the Countermeasure was stolen...by her. This was the day her entire life had been building toward, for better or for worse. And while she'd wanted the day to come, now that it was here she was afraid. Once she had the Countermeasure she didn't really know what was ahead of her for the next six years. She'd have to keep it away from Monarch until 2016 when she'd bring it to Jack at the swimming hall and they'd try to fix the Fracture. She closed her eyes and banished the memories of the future that awaited her. All of time frozen in place, and Shifters being the only things that continued to exist.

She chastised herself for how much time she'd wasted staring at the mural when she needed to be fully focused on the task at hand. She moved out a nearby door and out into the main pool room. The majority of the space was taken up by the great circular mass of the time machine. She moved along the walkway against the wall to a table with paint supplies she had set up in the center of the room. She grabbed the gun that she had tucked away in an empty box beside her laptop. If anyone broke into the building and found the machine she'd wanted to be sure that she was prepared to defend it, but she didn't want to leave a gun out in the open either. She checked that it was fully loaded and clean. Her gaze then traveled back to the time machine; which had been active, corridor in place, for the last few days. She knew it wouldn't cause a Fracture and some part of her that she hated for existing was still holding out hope. She still hoped that Jack would follow the plan and arrive to help her. She'd long ago decided that he wouldn't, but it was hard to let go of that last shred of belief. The kind of belief she'd had in spades back before she'd been sent forward in time. She wanted to believe that they could still fix the Fracture, even though she already knew they didn't.

It hurt to think of Jack, and the time when she was certain all of her efforts would pay off in the end. She wanted more than anything to go back to when she thought that everything she'd been through wasn't for nothing. A part of her wished that Jack would show up just to tell her that they wouldn't fail so she could believe again. At the same time she hoped he didn't though. She didn't want him to see her as she was now. When he'd last seen her she was strong and self-assured, her clothes and visage echoing how prepared she was for the Fracture. But just like her confidence her appearance had degraded. Her clothing, which she'd gotten from a homeless shelter, was worn out and she just was trying to make them last as long as she could at this point. She'd managed to work a few cash-paying jobs here and there over the years, but she couldn't ever use her real name otherwise it might link her to her younger-self that would eventually work for Monarch. She'd used false identities and had switched jobs regularly so that she wasn't familiar to anyone. Her hair was unevenly cut, as she'd tried to do it herself with some kitchen scissors the last time she'd needed to change her look. It had been a mistake. She was just lucky that soon after the shelter had given her a beanie that could use to cover it up. She'd stick out too much with how bad of a job she did, but people seem to notice her less with the cap on.

No, Jack didn't need to see the mess she'd become. She only hoped that in 2016 Jack would be too distracted by trying to find a way to fix time to notice whatever shape she might be in at that point. She was sure that the people at the shelter thought she was on drugs, so she didn't want to think of what he'd assume after seeing her. She almost wished she was doing drugs. At least then she'd have an escape, an oblivion, away from the agonizing passage of time and the nightmares. But drugs could make her loose her focus and she couldn't afford to let that happen. Besides, she knew what could stop the nightmares, but it was more dangerous than narcotics.

Her gaze shifted to table beside her, which had her laptop on one edge and in the center a partially finished picture. She'd gotten the laptop second-hand and it would freeze if she tried running anything more than a web browser, but that was all she really needed. She used it to keep in email contact with William so he could update her on the Countermeasure. She'd received a message earlier that day while she was loitering in the alley behind a nearby coffee shop to leech off their internet connection. William had finished the Countermeasure and she'd informed him he needed to leave his workshop that day. She knew he wasn't there to know she'd taken it, because in the video he left he seemed to just hope she had it. Another piece of the future was falling into place as it was always meant to be. It also helped that walking out of a time machine gave her a certain authority to William. He didn't want to know the future either, so he didn't question why he should do what she asked of him. He just followed instructions. It made things easier.

All he'd needed to know was that all of time was in danger and only the Countermeasure could save it. He'd been working tirelessly on it since she'd exited the time machine in 1999, and had given up so much and used nearly all his resources. What was worse was the divide it had caused between him and Jack over the years. William kept his work to himself, and that meant withdrawing from Jack at a time that he truly needed a big brother. It was the cruel irony that seemed to surround everything involving the Fracture. William was putting in so much effort to try and save Jack from the End of Time. His love and devotion to his younger brother, to protect him from his own creation, had created a rift that she knew wouldn't be patched before William's death. Eventually Jack would learn the truth, but by that point it will be too late and William would already be gone. Reconciliation would just have to be Jack's sacrifice.

Lying on the floor were a few of the stencils she'd used in some of her artworks. She'd made them to create the general outline of several human figures. There was one of her and one of Liam from the picture she'd done of them in a standoff when Jack had still been in the Monarch van. There was one from the mural of the moment she started on this path. The unaware child looking up at a woman who said she was from the future while handing her a book. A book that would change her life. When she'd come back she'd contemplated not giving her younger-self the manuscript. Wondered what that would mean for her future. But in the end she did it anyway, as she knew she would. She remembered being that little girl growing up, having to face the fact that she couldn't change the reality of her future. And receiving the book was another piece that had to happen. She hated herself for it, for standing there and lying to that little girl, to dooming her to this path. The false hope that she'd given and the words in the book had asserted were nothing but a lie, but it wouldn't be until she stepped out of the time machine and saw the end of time that she would find that out.

She gripped the gun in her hand a bit tighter, and she felt herself cracking slightly. She needed to take her mind off of her past, off of the lost cause that was the purpose she'd believed in all her life. She moved away from the table back to the room she'd come from. There was one other thing that she'd found that could calm these particular thoughts. She moved into the adjacent room that was basically her entire home. She had a fridge, a table that she could prepare or set food on, a TV that got basic channels for a little entertainment, a bedside table with a small lamp on it, and her bed which was simply a mattress with a sleeping bag on top. It wasn't much, but it was more than she needed and she could leave it all behind at a moment's notice if she had to. The basic theme of her life. She moved to the side of her bed and started to rummage through the backpack on the floor. She always kept it packed with her remaining pieces of clothing and some supplies in case she only had minutes to make a run for it. The pack included the one thing that could put her mind at ease.

She pulled her sketchbook from the bag and sat down on her bed. She hesitated, mentally scolding herself for needing it and not being stronger - but the reality was she hadn't been strong in a long time. She opened to a random page, examining the image that she'd drawn there. She looked at the portrait of Jack and focused on the memory that she'd drawn the picture from. He was confident as he hatched his plan for how they would get into the gala. He had been right in the end; and in that moment not only had he been excited by his own ingenuity but she was sure he, in some way, liked the thrill of the risk. There was no way that he could have known the plan would work, but he'd been so sure of their success anyway. She wished she had that same confidence now. She flipped to another page and it was him with a sarcastic smile on his face. Jack had been amused by her taste in music when they'd first met. These memories calmed her, reminded her of how it felt to have hope that things could be changed. The book she'd given her younger-self would lead to her accept that the future is already set, but for those hours when she was helping Jack she almost felt like things could actually work out. Of course at that time she also hadn't seen the End of Time. Now she had. She turned to the next page and studied the image of a much younger Jack. It was from when she'd been following him in the past and had gone to see his band play. He and his bandmates had been hanging out after their performance, sitting around a table and chatting. His music may have been shit, but he was happy and had a healthy outlet for dealing with all that had been happening in his life. It was one of her favorite sketches.

She paused before she turned the page one last time. She knew what the next sketch was...it was the most important one, but also the one that hurt the most. She stared down at the face on the page and her fingers moved to touch the paper. It was the moment she'd gone into the time machine to go back to 2010 and steal the Counter measure. There was a reassuring expression on his face but she could see that it was also masking worry. It was the first time she'd ever have someone really worry about her. Sure people had shown concern for her before, but that always seemed to be connected to how distant she could be or because of the motivations behind her actions being unknown to them. They didn't understand the weight of what she'd been working for, but Jack knew. Jack knew that she'd spent her life preparing for the Fracture, and he'd accepted her and believed her when all others had dismissed her. He knew her, _the real her_ , and he was worried. But he was trying to hide it and stay strong for the good of the plan. She felt it echoed how she was now. She was worried for the future, but would have to push that fear aside and mask it because the plan needed her to move forward.

She closed her eyes and could almost feel his breath on her ears as he whispered the words to her. He'd never actually said them to her but she could swear it was like he'd said them her entire life. They first came to her clearly in a dream she'd had, but since then when she thought back it seemed like something from even before they'd really met. They were words that she clung to in these harsh moments even if they weren't real. She wanted to believe in something even if when she left the room, tucked away her book, she'd be faced with the lie. But when she opened her eyes she was still looking at just the sketch. He wasn't there. She was alone. It was July 4th, 2010, and she had a job to do.

She tucked the book away and stood, moving into the next room. She'd set up a few targets and a table with a few boxes of ammo. She was always working on her aim and keeping what skills she did have sharp. She never knew when she'd need them. She moved around to stand opposite the targets and loaded a few magazines with rounds. She then raised her gun and fired. The shots were loud in the enclosed space but she was happy for it. It drowned out the thoughts that might try to creep back in. She fully focused on emptying her clip and hastily ejecting it before inserting another and continued her assault on the targets.

She had fired off five magazines when she sensed the presence in the room behind her. It was approaching slowly and she waited until it was close, empting most of her rounds before she wheeled around to face the threat. What she was met with was the last thing she'd been expecting to see that day. There standing before her, hands out to stop her from shooting at him, was Jack. She could see the shock on his face, but what surprised her more was the clear recognition.

"Beth?" he asked.

This was the first time she'd heard his voice, the Jack she'd known, in years - and the first thing he said was her name. There was confusion in his tone and a concern which left her without words. She just stared at him, trying to embrace the reality that this was really happening. That he was really there. Beth took a few steps back until her back hit the table behind her and she knew there was nowhere to run.

"It's me..." he began as he took a step toward her.

Beth felt her strength evaporate and her legs give out. His voice was so clear, so real. It wasn't some memory. She collapsed onto the ground, only managing to prop herself up with her arms. Jack quickly moved to her side, his need to protect kicking in as he moved to comfort her.

"Hey. Hey, hey, hey," he said as he crouched on the floor beside her, one hand settling on her back and the other gently touching her left forearm.

She desperately tried to regain control of her thoughts and emotions. She hated that Jack was seeing her like this, needing to feel like she had to be taken care of. She had given up hope that he was going to come, and yet here he was. He had arrived just as they had planned, but somehow that seemed crazy just a few minutes ago. Once again what she expected was being turned on its head. It was simply a lot for her to take in. Beth could feel him close to her and those words again seemed to echo in her ear, whispered so long ago. But his actual voice broke though, thick with confusion and worry over the sorry condition she was in. He asked the one question she didn't want to answer.

"What happened to you?"


End file.
